


Nothing Alike

by MissCrazyWriter321



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Canon Compliant, Emotional Conversations Disguised As Arguments, Episode Tag: s02e08, Friendship, Gen, Missing Scene, Spock Has Feelings And He Doesn't Want Them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-23 11:44:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20339575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissCrazyWriter321/pseuds/MissCrazyWriter321
Summary: Episode tag for "I, Mudd."-“I’m going to have to disagree with you there,” he answered, smiling in spite of himself. Spock blinked, in something that might have been surprise, before schooling his expression once more. Just to ram the point home, McCoy added, “Your argument is illogical.”





	Nothing Alike

**Author's Note:**

> ... It's not too late to join the Star Trek fandom, is it? 
> 
> Anyway, it bothered me that they never resolved this, so I decided to deal with it myself. Hopefully you enjoy!! 
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing but my ideas.

He was smiling when he reached sick-bay. That didn’t happen often, and he had every intention of relishing in the moment. Poor Harry Mudd, left alone with hundreds of copies of his nagging ex-wife. If the man wasn’t such a royal pain, he might actually have felt sorry for him. Well, that was a mighty big “if,” and McCoy figured he deserved worse than that. 

A quiet shuffle behind him drew his attention back to the doorway, and he hesitated. A very familiar Vulcan stood, facing away from him. Though he was still, it was clear he’d been trying to slip out unnoticed. 

Weird. Sneaking wasn’t Spock’s normal style.

“What brings you down here, Spock?” He’d probably come up with a few new arguments for why the android society was right, and humans were illogical and incapable. That suited McCoy just fine; it was too cheery around here, and he could go for a good argument. 

Surprisingly, Spock didn’t respond right away. He tilted his head slightly, as if considering the question, and turned away from the door. “Curiosity, doctor.” He clasped his hands tightly in front of him, looking far too formal for McCoy’s liking, and continued. “Your theory about Crewman Norman was correct, but you have yet to needlessly inform me of that fact.” 

Wincing at the reminder of their earlier conversation, McCoy glanced away. It shouldn’t have mattered, and to Spock, it probably didn’t; he’d never met an insult he couldn’t ignore, and those were the intentional ones. Surely, to be upset by an unintentional comparison would be… Illogical, to coin a phrase. And yet, it unsettled him. Spock was still waiting for an answer, he realized, even though he hadn’t technically asked a question. Understanding hit him slowly, and he blinked. “Now, wait just a second. You came all the way down here to ask me why I hadn’t said ‘I told you so’?” 

With an expectant look, Spock nodded. “Essentially.” 

What sort of ridiculous question-? “Well, frankly, I didn’t see the point.”

“I see.” It reminded of earlier in the day, of Spock’s curt brush-off of his suspicions about Norman, and wariness crept in. The feeling only grew worse when Spock turned to go, without so much as a nod in his direction. Surely he didn’t actually hurt the man’s feelings for once, did he?

“Spock? Hold up a minute, would you?” Spock complied, turning back and resuming his stiff pose. His expression was frustratingly neutral, staring back with pure indifference. It was chilling. He’d never realized how expressive Spock was-would have never thought such a thing-until he saw him holding back. Now certain he was right about his theory, he cleared his throat. “Listen, I’m sorry about what I said earlier. I didn’t mean-“ 

“You did.” There was no accusation in his tone, and somehow, that made it worse. “You did indeed mean that Norman’s behavior showed signs of untrustworthiness, and your assessment was correct.” 

McCoy’s stomach turned against his will, and he closed his eyes briefly, regaining his composure, before stepping forward. This was bigger than hurt feelings, he realized. It wasn’t his thoughtless words that troubled Spock, but the fact that they’d been right. Spock’s expression didn’t change, and no vulnerability crept through, but in a moment, McCoy swore he could see straight through the Vulcan. Maybe something showed on his face, because Spock shifted slightly, before catching himself. 

“But I didn’t mean you. I trust you, Spock, really. With my life.” The words came easier than he expected, in spite of their weight. For all of their bickering, he cared about Spock, and he knew it went both ways, even if some unnamed beings with pointy ears denied it. If he’d really hurt him, he didn’t mind doing whatever it took to make things right. 

“I’m aware of that, doctor,” Spock answered slowly. At least he seemed to be listening again, although he certainly wasn’t placated. “However, by your own logic, you should not trust me.” 

McCoy fought back a groan, struggling to find the words to say.  _ I’m a doctor,  _ he mused bitterly,  _ not Jim Kirk!  _ Jim would know just what to say. He’d sit Spock down, and with a single comment, their Vulcan would be back to normal. He could turn the heart of a planet with his speeches. McCoy, on the other hand, found his speeches tended to infuriate people. The problem was, he genuinely hadn’t realized what he was saying until it was too late. Never in a million years would he have compared Spock to that cold, metallic being, unless it was in jest. Honestly, they weren’t even alike. 

_ Oh.  _

Understanding washed over him, the way it often did when he took some time for introspection, instead of snapping whatever came to mind.  _ Of course. _

“I’m going to have to disagree with you there,” he answered, smiling in spite of himself. Spock blinked, in something that might have been surprise, before schooling his expression once more. Just to ram the point home, McCoy added, “Your argument is illogical.”

Every flicker of emotion Spock couldn’t or didn’t suppress was another reassurance that McCoy was on the right path. The Vulcan’s eyebrows crept up for a half-second, before returning to their normal position. “How so?”

“You’re nothing like Norman.” Immediately, the guarded expression returned. That’s what it was, McCoy realized: not blank, but guarded, trying to protect himself from pesky human emotions like hurt. “You’re not! Now, what did I saw about him? How he never smiled…”

“There is something wrong about a man who never smiles, and whose conversation never varies from the routine of his job, and who won’t talk about his background,” Spock intoned, and McCoy winced, some of his enthusiasm draining.  _ Of all the times for him to pay attention to me, huh? He’s like a kid! Never listens when you want him to, never forgets when you don’t.  _ Still, he plowed on, determined. 

“Exactly! Not you at all!” Spock’s unamused look was reminiscent of the one he gave McCoy’s ‘pointed ears’ explanation earlier in the day. Fair enough. “For one thing, you smile all the time. You just don’t use your mouth.” 

The words had their intended effect: Spock faltered, his guard falling away in favor of sheer puzzlement. If he’d been lying, Spock would have been able to sense it a mile away. Since he wasn’t, McCoy could only imagine what was going through that head of his, as he tried to parse out what was happening. “I was unaware that there were other ways to smile,” he answered finally, which was exactly the response McCoy had been hoping for.

“Why, sure there are! You smile with your eyes, with your voice…” He scoffed. “Even that eyebrow of yours!” 

As if on cue, his eyebrow crept up, amusement flickering in his gaze. “Eyebrows cannot smile, doctor.”

“Then how come yours is right now?” 

It was, finally, the right thing to say. Tension drained from Spock’s shoulders, and he tilted his head expectantly, nodding for the doctor to go on. Maybe because he needed to hear this, or maybe because he wanted to make McCoy suffer a little. Both very human reactions, but for once, he had no desire to tease him for them. 

“As for not talking about anything but the job? Spock, correct me if I’m wrong-“

“I will.”

“But I’m pretty sure our philosophical debates aren’t covered under shop talk,” he continued, pretending to ignore the interruption. Spock considered the statement, apparently determined it to be true, and nodded. 

“And as for not talking about my background?” And there it was: the gauntlet. If he couldn’t carry the argument through, then it wouldn’t hold much weight. Spock had forgiven him-of that much, he was finally sure-but the hurt was still there. Not aimed at him, but at something else. Spock himself, perhaps. 

“Okay, so you don’t talk much about where you came from.” There was no denying that, and he wouldn’t insult either of them by trying. “But you’re always telling me about the latest thing Jim did, or about the new trick Chekov learned, or the song Uhura sang over dinner. That time Sulu beat that Klingon at fencing, you wouldn’t stop talking about how much ‘skill he showed.’ And remember how you told me that Nurse Chapel’s plomeek soup was ‘fascinatingly palatable’?” He couldn’t keep the pride and amusement out of his voice, and he didn’t feel like trying. “You may not talk about your background, Spock, but you talk about your  _ family. _ ” He waited for the trademark Vulcan denial, and when none came, his smile widened. “That’s plenty good for me.” 

Spock hummed, apparently considering everything he’d just heard. That was fine. McCoy could wait. After all, he was a doctor, and doctors were famous for having lots of patience.  _ Too much time around Scotty,  _ he thought, rolling his eyes internally. Painful puns were the engineer’s department. 

“Doctor McCoy,” Spock finally said, “I am not human.” 

Now, wasn’t that just like him? As glad as he was the Spock seemed to be his normal self again, it would have been nice to get some sort of acknowledgement. It wouldn’t need to be much, but he was drained from his speech, and even an eyebrow smile would go a long way. 

“I hadn’t noticed. Now, I need to get this wrapped up so I can get some shut-eye-“

“However…” Spock’s expression was frustratingly impassive. “A human would likely be compelled to thank you.” 

With that, he disappeared down the hall, leaving Bones alone with just one thought: 

_ What the heck just happened?  _

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!!


End file.
